Bubble Gum Car

Warning: this post is all about Viva and Christmas. And Kwanzaa. If you wanted incisive political commentary or something -- what? You need to check yourself! Have you never been here before?

Onward:

Viva has watched A Charlie Brown Christmas approximately 29 times so far this holiday season. This morning, on the way to school, she said to me, "Did you ever see a bubble gum car?"

"A bubble gum CAR?" I said. "No, baby, I think you mean a bubble gum CARD."

"No, I mean a bubble gum car. Like Lucy."

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about, but in A Charlie Brown Christmas, she's saying bubble gum card. Because back when that show was made, when you would buy bubble gum, sometimes you would get a card enclosed with the bubble gum, and it would have a famous person on it, or sometimes a cartoon that said something funny. So when Lucy says Beethoven wasn't so great because he never had his picture on a bubble gum card, that's what she's saying. Do you get what I mean?"

"I like a bubble gum CAR."

"Yeah, I know. That is much cooler."

Swimming in December

Early this morning, when it was still dark outside, I heard Viva cry out on the baby monitor. I rolled over and realized Sweet William was not in the bed with me. A few seconds later, I heard him over the monitor, talking to her, and I heard the distinctive rip of the diaper coming off. He was talking to her soothingly, “Just let me get this dry diapey on and you can go right back to sleep.” I myself was soothed, and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

A few hours later, when I went in to Viva’s room to say good morning, I pulled back the covers to zrrbtt! her on her stomach (also known as “giving a raspberry”), and something looked odd. I pulled back the covers further to discover that my baby was wearing a Finding Nemo swim diaper.

This is what happens when you fumble in the closet in the dark.

I Want, I Need, Gimme Gimme Gimme

The Christmas spirit has taken over my little elf. Sort of.

Viva: You have boots. I need boots. You gonna get me some boots?

Mama B: Maybe. What color do you want?

Viva: Green and yellow.

But she’s also enjoying the other holidays, to wit:

Viva [surveying her books before bedtime]: I don’t want any of these.

Mama B: How about one of your Christmas books? Or what about the dinosaur books I got out of the library?

Viva: I need a Kwanzaa* book. How come we don’t have a Kwanzaa book?

Damn multicultural, ethnically sensitive preschool. Now that’s one more damn thing I have to worry about.

*Oh, remember I promised to let you in on the Kwanzaa controversy? Well, here ya go I can’t seem to find the damn link. Damn me! Maybe sometime I’ll expound here on my own Kwanzaa feelings, but not today.

The Hokey Pokey: Is that what it’s all about?

Recap of last week’s holiday show at Viva’s school: I ran around like a crazy person to find all the pieces of her outfit (which I found, variously, at Mervyn’s, Old Navy, and Pumpkin Patch*), did her hair in a most adorable style (forgetting that she would be wearing a Santa hat), and bought tickets for us and the grandparents. Viva was on stage for all of five minutes, and for the first half of that period, she only remembered the part about “you turn yourself around.” She kicked it up a notch after a while, swinging her hips when she wasn’t supposed to, holding her hands to her head and then windmilling her arms about. According to her teacher, Viva performed perfectly during rehearsal, so I think she was just overwhelmed by (a) the lights, and (b) so many people watching her in a theatre that has the capacity to seat 1,270 people. So much for her father’s concerns that she is such a little ham that this experience would switch the light on in her head, causing her to gasp rapturously and exclaim, “I want to be a star!”

* My new favorite store for Viva clothes. They fit for height and then they have these ingenious adjustable waists on everything. Since Viva is tall for her age, but very small-boned, I always have to buy for her height and then take the waists in. Since I suck as a seamstress, this is most annoying. The downside to Pumpkin Patch is, of course, the pricing. Comparable to Gymboree, so you have to catch things on sale.

If I don't post again for a while because I am caught up in the rapture of the holdays: Have a rockin' Christmas, kick-ass Kwanzaa, and a hellerific New Year! And a Belated Happy Hanukkah for those I missed a couple of weeks ago due to my sickness.

Peace and love, people. Peace and love.